


Runway Runaway

by kototyph



Series: Halloween Trick or Treat Ficlets [12]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Blood and Gore, F/F, Fashion & Couture, Ficlet, Hedonism: a Valid Life Choice When You Could Die at Any Second, Hellhounds, On the Run
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-01
Updated: 2014-11-01
Packaged: 2018-02-23 13:07:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2548601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kototyph/pseuds/kototyph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Her spoon has just, oh, just cracked through the crisp layer of perfectly caramelized sugar on her creme brulée when the first ululating howl cuts through the din of dining room chatter, clear as churchbells at a wake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Runway Runaway

**Author's Note:**

> _Anonymous said:_ bela talbot and ellie (from trial and error) on the run from hellhounds!

Her spoon has just, oh, _just_ cracked through the crisp layer of perfectly caramelized sugar on her creme brulée when the first ululating howl cuts through the din of dining room chatter, clear as churchbells at a wake.

Bela gives herself a moment to properly mourn the loss of her beautiful dessert before reaching for the knife and the glasses tucked into her purse— a spring Marchesa Valentino, because she’d so adored the little crystal— and a second howl comes in the echoes of the first, closer. It sounds like the little beasties are in the sparkling hotel foyer just outside.

The waitress next to her drops her tray.

Bela looks up, ugly square frames already in place, and sees all color drain from the girl’s face, her lips forming the words _no, nonono_ as she starts to back away towards the kitchen. She’s a pretty little thing, all dark eyes and soft, trembling mouth, and she lets out a weak little moan of terror when something massive and dark trots around the corner, sulphurous breath rising as it bares its teeth at them.

Bela smiles back.

The battle ends in an upstairs  hallway, brutal and bloody, scattering screaming patrons in all directions. Bela guts the damned dogs with as much fierce joy as she did the first time— not today, messieurs and mesdames of the crossroads, not today— and throws their smoky bodies down the garbage chute.

Maybe dear, stupid Dean was right about the whole business. Bela is sure she’ll make a lovely demonness when she dies, but she’s in no hurry to speed the process.

She’s sitting splayed against the  elevator door, exhausted and bleeding and laughing about it. She’s broken the heel off one of her Laboutins and the red Dior is a total loss, torn to shreds that barely cling to her and splattered up and down with hellhound viscera. The girl is crouched next to her, cradling a badly-clawed arm to her chest but otherwise unhurt.

“I— I don’t know how I can thank you,” she stutters, breath coming in uneven gasps. “I mean, I thought I was going to— my name’s Ellie, and you’re— how did you—?.”

“ _Ellie_ ,” Bela purrs, licking the blood off her teeth. “We shouldn’t stay out here. Why don’t you come up to my room? I’ll tell you all about it.”

**Author's Note:**

> I need more fandom friends! Find me on [tumblr](http://kototyph.tumblr.com/) and [livejournal](http://kototyph.livejournal.com/).


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